C. F. HOLDER 1 63 



owing to the heavy surf that is always piling in ; 

 and thus incidentally the miserable Patagonians 

 are saved from starvation, subsisting almost entirely 

 upon the fishes, the barren half-frozen land pro- 

 ducing little or nothing. 



Everywhere alongshore this maze of hardy vines 

 constitutes a shelter for many animals. It is a 

 forest of seaweed, rising from great depths, rolling 

 over and over in strange but graceful convolu- 

 tions in the surf or tidal currents, a menace to 

 swimmers and at times to vessels, but, when dor- 

 mant and illumined by the sun, a thing of radiant 

 beauty. 



Along the Santa Catalina coast, at extreme low 

 tide, the kelp lies in such thick involved masses 

 that it forms an almost impassable barrier. These 

 huge vines, which do not indicate a rocky coast, 

 fasten to small rocks or stones anywhere in water 

 of medium depth from a few yards to half a mile 

 from shore ; and, when cast up, show the short 

 roots coiled about some small object with a vice- 

 like grip. These floating gardens afford a home 

 to a multitude of animals, strange, because they 

 have insensibly taken on a singular means of pro- 

 tection, mimicking the tone or color of the leaf 

 These animals include crabs, shell-less mollusks, 

 and fishes. One of the crabs, which is nearly two 

 inches across, is so perfect an imitation of the kelp 

 that when lying directly before my eyes it was 



